Good morning, good afternoon and good evening readers,

It has been nearly a month since my last blog entry and a lot has happened. For those reading this that know me, you will be aware that I have returned to the UK due to … unforeseen circumstances. Whilst I am not ready to disclose such reasons now, I may do so at a later date.

Somebody told me in Armenia that dealing with re-entry culture shock is harder than the initial culture shock you experience. By gum, they were right. It is very hard to describe the feeling of returning to your home, that doesn’t quite feel like your home anymore. In good ol’ fashioned style I have decided to write a wee poem about it.

Note to reader: When I wrote this I was very much feeling like I wanted everyone to bugger off, but I have since come out of that feeling.

“I” am “home”

“I” have been “home” for a week now
and “I” deliberately use both with in adverted commas,
“I” am not sure what “home” is and “I”
certainly am not sure what “I” am
in this particular moment.

“I” used to fit into “home”, and “home” used
to fit around me. Or at least I thought as much.
But now that “I” have changed, so has “home” and
the puzzle doesn’t quite work the same anymore.

Time changes my “home” and “I”
And it would seem that if you take your ear of
the ticking, ticking, ticking
clock,
By the time you’ve noticed it stop
“I” becomes “i” and “home” becomes “HoMe”
And everything that once was is
all out of shape.

I have started to wish that “I” did not exist
Or that me was never a part of “home”,

Oh.

But I suppose that would leave the oh, all on its owns, backwards.
That’s no way to live                    is it?

“I”
“I”
“I”
“I” feel
like “I” have
just landed from
another
planet as
we sit here talking
about the
NeW sPeAkEr
you just bought
for your
HOME HOME HOME

But “I” suppose you wouldn’t know.
You wouldn’t know.
You wouldn’t know.

And “I” don’t think I want you to.

Yes. That’s right.

“I” think “I” would rather be left alone,
Just until I have really returned “home”.

In confused kindness,
C x

Picture: Alex Prager